


A Song of Hot and Cold

by Bock_Bock_Motherclucker



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff What Plot?, M/M, short one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 18:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16164365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bock_Bock_Motherclucker/pseuds/Bock_Bock_Motherclucker
Summary: With the temperature tolerances of a marigold and ice cube respectively, Zevran Arainai and Xavin Tabris both take a degree of enjoyment when the weather is against the other's preference.





	1. Iceberg in the Tropics

"How can anyone even live like this?!" I cried out, flopping onto my futon in lieu of wild gesticulation. Forty-five degrees Celsius was far too hot for expressive hand movements. As a Ferelden native, I'd enjoyed many a rainy, muddy summer. That's not sarcasm, I rather liked being able to do simple tasks without drowning in my own sweat. My own country seemed to be betraying me by deciding to become an inferno overnight.

Zevran, being the rat bastard he always has been and always will be, had the nerve to just lean against a wall and smirk. He glistened with a light sheen of sweat ( _HOW?_ ) while my nasty self looked like some fiend had taken a blowtorch to a wax museum. "Ah, mi amor, this scarcely compares to an Antivan summer's day."

"It is very frackin' hot and you're not _dying_. I don't understand." I began to extract myself from my sodden tank top. I would compare the experience to pulling oneself out of a barrel of eels. Zero out of ten, would not recommend to friends.

He chuckled at obvious displeasure, like the arse he is, and pushed off the wall and glided toward me with more grace than anyone should have when Mother Nature has raised her thermostat to match the bowels of Hell.

I groaned, not giving two shits in a hat about how childish it sounded. "If you come any closer, I'm gonna melt. And not in the cutesy romantic way, I mean the iceberg-in-the-tropics kinda way. My own body heat is more than enough for me right now, thank you very much."

"Such a shame," He ignored me and sat down next to me, scooting me over in the process. He stretched in the exaggerated way of his that was both ridiculous and sexy. The arch of his back caused his bright orange crop top to creep up, showing off dark swirling tattoos that disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. The jeweled bar in his navel caught my gaze the way the damnable thing always did

My eyes flickered up to his face to find a mischievous grin.

" _No_ , Zevran, it is too damn hot for that." I rotated and plopped my head onto his lap. It wouldn't help with surviving the ungodly temperature, but reclaiming my full place on the futon was worth it—and I loved the man too much to make him put up with my sweaty feet. Plus, the angle was great for glaring.

He sighed dramatically and reclined into the futon. I found myself unwilling to complain as he started to massage my scalp. "As you wish, caro mio."


	2. In an Icebox

"Your ancestors must have been mad to colonize such a frigid place as this." Zevran complained as he burrowed deeper into a pile of blankets on his bed. A good two-thirds of the pile were gifts from moi. He had come from Antiva largely unprepared for Ferelden winters, and I wasn't afraid to admit how adorable I found it when he cocooned himself in blankets and woolly pajamas.

I allowed myself to chuckle a bit at his expense while I stripped down to my undershirt and boxers. I tossed my clothes on the floor, and he eyed my freshly made mess with a hint of annoyance. "This madness must be hereditary."

I shrugged and tugged open his blanket wad. He shivered and curled close to me as I readjusted the covers. With his head now on my chest, he slid an arm over my waist. I kissed his forehead, and began to rub his back with one hand. My mind began to drift to reasons to delay saying 'good night' when he kissed my neck—

And promptly shoved a chilly hand up my chest.

I shrieked—a totally manly, dignified shriek. "Dammit, Zev! Where have you had your hand, in an icebox?"

He grinned like dastardly fiend I knew him to be. "Amor, you are very aware of where my hand has been, no?"


End file.
